Prelude
by ColorsAndVoices
Summary: The beginning of The Bad Wolf Chronicles: my version of who the Bad Wolf is. Will be continued in future stories. T rating is only to be safe cos it's a little dark.


AN: Yeah, this is a first story, so I hope its ok. It will eventually be part of a long string of stories called The Bad Wolf Cronicles, the order of which will be posted on my profile.

Hope you like.

-AutumnxAngel

Disclaimer: Look, if you recognize it, guess what: It's not mine.

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**Prelude**

This was the Vortex. The everything between dimensions.

Within it he was screaming.

Screaming, screaming, screaming into life.

The burn tore through his mind.

His people died over and over behind his eyes. All he wanted was to join them. He'd never really wanted to be with them before. They were too full of themselves. They had lost the brilliance he needed so badly. So he'd stayed away. Now they were gone and he couldn't follow and he wanted to so much.

He couldn't live without his home. He needed it there for him to abandon. His Gallifrey. Burned and gone to ashes.

He screamed until there was no more, his Tardis, partly dead herself, taking him away. Even as he wished to stay and to die.

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This was Earth. A lonely blue planet in the Godless Dimension.

There was no magic here. There had been once. People used to understand it. Use it. Now it was gone. It went away with the gods.

Still, every now and then, a spark would appear, threading through from some other dimension where people still believed. And, sometimes, with a little luck, or perhaps a slight curse, this magic found a place. This time around it came to a young girl, weaving itself into her soul until she was so broken that she no longer belonged to this dimension.

She belonged to several others, however, and when the time was right, she would be allowed into them, would take her place in them. If she lasted long enough, the gods would fix her broken soul.

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Tonight was a bad night. Life hurt. She would know.

When dark fell, the girl threw herself into sleep. Unconsciousness. It was nice. It didn't hurt anymore.

In the morning, while the stars still kept watch in the velvet sky, something changed. Life was going to be different now. Fate was going to give a little instead of just breaking her some more.

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She woke quickly, staring blindly into the blackness. Her eyes were wide and her breath was loud in the absolute silence permeating the house. She was completely still, straining to hear something that only she could hear. She'd dreamt of it for so long that when she heard what she was listening for she almost didn't believe it. When she sat up, it was a quick movement that ended with her head leaning out the open window.

The sound continued to press on her ears and her soul exalted.

Not even bothering to put on suitable clothes, she dashed down a flight of stairs and out into the frigid air of late fall. The frost covered grass soaked her bare feet but it no longer mattered. The roar of the most beautiful machine in the multiverse filled her mind and for now the broken soul was healed.

With the ease of familiarity, though she had never done so before, the girl pressed her hand into the cool paneling on the door of the small blue box. It opened to her, welcoming her, allowing her entrance. She smiled, a real smile that reached her eyes, and stepped under the white lettering above the door which read 'Police Public Call Box'.

She walked across the metal grating, bare feet silent, not the least annoyed as the metal pressed into her soft skin. She crossed the room to crouch down beside the figure who lay unconscious beside the central column.

He was somewhat broken. His hair was singed short and he was covered in dirt and blood, some of it his own. His clothes were torn and burnt, scarcely clinging to his skin. Her brow was creased in sorrow and worry as she scooped up the larger man, holding him tight to her chest.

She took him down the hall, selecting one of numerous doors and entering into a bedroom. With the utmost care, she laid the man upon the bed, lifting a blanket from the floor and draping it over him. She wished to stay and help him, but it was not yet her time. A gentle, chaste kiss to his forehead and the whispered words "My poor, beautiful, Doctor." and she was gone.

At the end of the corridor, there was a silver door. She went to this door, and, with the confidence of one who belongs, pushed it open. With a sad smile that mourned loss and hoped for a future, the Bad Wolf stepped through the door that never opened and was swirled into the rest of the Tardis' soul.

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AN: Good? Bad? Let me know. You know you want to………


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